Personal Narrative Essay: Stella's Haunted House

Standing at the white-railed fence that surrounds Stella’s stall I recognizing all the marks on the inside of the shelter and they bring back so many memories. Memories come flooding back, some good and some I wish I could just forget. January 13th, 2015, feels as if it was yesterday. It was the day I lost one of my best friends and a day I wish never happened. It all began as I was walking back to school with my friends from Walgreens, I got a call from my dad telling me “You need to run home and get your Carhartt and some gloves and a hat because Prince is sick and you might be out here for a while. Also, call you mom and see if she needs anything from the house to stay warm for tonight."
I replied, "Is he okay? What is wrong and how bad is he?"
"I will talk to you when you get here and catch you up on everything but go get the things
As I drove through the large wooden arch I got a gut feeling it wasn't going to be. After passing all the stalls I found my dad’s truck and in the round pen to the left of the road was Prince standing there all droopy and not feeling well. He was covered in mud that he was thrashing around in earlier in the morning when it all began. My dad slowly approached my car as I pulled to the side to park. After I had got out of my car he began to tell me what had happened, "Chris was feeding this morning and threw a little handful to each of my horses to keep them occupied while he started from the barn of the barn but while he was feeding the last row he heard extremely loud noises. He hurried up and drove his hay truck to find where the noise was coming from and saw Prince covered in mud. He looked to see if he had touched the hay but he didn't. Instead, there was a large hole located at the beginning of his shed where he was rolling. Chris called me and I rushed down to the